Rumour. Open your ears; for which of you will stop
The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?
I, from the orient to the drooping west,
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
5The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace while covert emnity,
10Under the smile of safety, wounds the world;
And who but Rumour, who but only I,
Make fearful musters and prepar'd defence,
Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
15And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a stop
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wav'ring multitude,
20Can play upon it. But what need I thus
My well-known body to anatomize
Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry's victory,
Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury,
25Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I
To speak so true at first? My office is
To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
30Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,
And that the King before the Douglas' rage
Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
35And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,
And not a man of them brings other news
Than they have learnt of me. From Rumour's tongues
40They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.

Earl of Northumberland. What news, Lord Bardolph? Every minute now
Should be the father of some stratagem.
55The times are wild; contention, like a horse
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose
And bears down all before him.

Lord Bardolph. As good as heart can wish.
The King is almost wounded to the death;
And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts
65Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John,
And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field;
And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John,
Is prisoner to your son. O, such a day,
So fought, so followed, and so fairly won,
70Came not till now to dignify the times,
Since Cxsar's fortunes!

Travers. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back
With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,
Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard
A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,
That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
90He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.
He told me that rebellion had bad luck,
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold.
With that he gave his able horse the head
95And, bending forward, struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade
Up to the rowel-head; and starting so,
He seem'd in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question.
100

Earl of Northumberland. Ha! Again:
Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Of Hotspur, Coldspur? that rebellion
Had met ill luck?

Lord Bardolph. My lord, I'll tell you what:
105If my young lord your son have not the day,
Upon mine honour, for a silken point
I'll give my barony. Never talk of it.

Lord Bardolph. Who—he?
He was some hilding fellow that had stol'n
The horse he rode on and, upon my life,
Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.

Enter Morton

Earl of Northumberland. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf,
Foretells the nature of a tragic volume.
So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood
Hath left a witness'd usurpation.
Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?
120

Morton. I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;
Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
To fright our party.

Earl of Northumberland. How doth my son and brother?
Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
125Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dread in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night
And would have told him half his Troy was burnt;
130But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it.
This thou wouldst say: 'Your son did thus and thus;
Your brother thus; so fought the noble Douglas'—
Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds;
135But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
Ending with 'Brother, son, and all, are dead.'

Earl of Northumberland. Why, he is dead.
See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
He that but fears the thing he would not know
Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes
That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton;
145Tell thou an earl his divination lies,
And I will take it as a sweet disgrace
And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.

Morton. You are too great to be by me gainsaid;
Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
150

Earl of Northumberland. Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead.
I see a strange confession in thine eye;
Thou shak'st thy head, and hold'st it fear or sin
To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so:
The tongue offends not that reports his death;
155And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
Not he which says the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
160Rememb'red tolling a departing friend.

Morton. I am sorry I should force you to believe
That which I would to God I had not seen;
But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
165Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and out-breath'd,
To Harry Monmouth, whose swift wrath beat down
The never-daunted Percy to the earth,
From whence with life he never more sprung up.
In few, his death—whose spirit lent a fire
170Even to the dullest peasant in his camp—
Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
From the best-temper'd courage in his troops;
For from his metal was his party steeled;
Which once in him abated, all the rest
175Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead.
And as the thing that's heavy in itself
Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed,
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear
180That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim
Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,
Fly from the field. Then was that noble Worcester
Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot,
The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword
185Had three times slain th' appearance of the King,
Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame
Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight,
Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
Is that the King hath won, and hath sent out
190A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
Under the conduct of young Lancaster
And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.

Earl of Northumberland. For this I shall have time enough to mourn.
In poison there is physic; and these news,
195Having been well, that would have made me sick,
Being sick, have in some measure made me well;
And as the wretch whose fever-weak'ned joints,
Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
200Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs,
Weak'ned with grief, being now enrag'd with grief,
Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch!
A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
Must glove this hand; and hence, thou sickly coif!
205Thou art a guard too wanton for the head
Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.
Now bind my brows with iron; and approach
The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring
To frown upon th' enrag'd Northumberland!
210Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not Nature's hand
Keep the wild flood confin'd! Let order die!
And let this world no longer be a stage
To feed contention in a ling'ring act;
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
215Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end
And darkness be the burier of the dead!

Morton. Sweet Earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.
220The lives of all your loving complices
Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er
To stormy passion, must perforce decay.
You cast th' event of war, my noble lord,
And summ'd the account of chance before you said
225'Let us make head.' It was your pre-surmise
That in the dole of blows your son might drop.
You knew he walk'd o'er perils on an edge,
More likely to fall in than to get o'er;
You were advis'd his flesh was capable
230Of wounds and scars, and that his forward spirit
Would lift him where most trade of danger rang'd;
Yet did you say 'Go forth'; and none of this,
Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
The stiff-borne action. What hath then befall'n,
235Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth
More than that being which was like to be?

Lord Bardolph. We all that are engaged to this loss
Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas
That if we wrought out life 'twas ten to one;
240And yet we ventur'd, for the gain propos'd
Chok'd the respect of likely peril fear'd;
And since we are o'erset, venture again.
Come, we will put forth, body and goods.

Morton. 'Tis more than time. And, my most noble lord,
245I hear for certain, and dare speak the truth:
The gentle Archbishop of York is up
With well-appointed pow'rs. He is a man
Who with a double surety binds his followers.
My lord your son had only but the corpse,
250But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;
For that same word 'rebellion' did divide
The action of their bodies from their souls;
And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd,
As men drink potions; that their weapons only
255Seem'd on our side, but for their spirits and souls
This word 'rebellion'—it had froze them up,
As fish are in a pond. But now the Bishop
Turns insurrection to religion.
Suppos'd sincere and holy in his thoughts,
260He's follow'd both with body and with mind;
And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
Of fair King Richard, scrap'd from Pomfret stones;
Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause;
Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,
265Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;
And more and less do flock to follow him.

Earl of Northumberland. I knew of this before; but, to speak truth,
This present grief had wip'd it from my mind.
Go in with me; and counsel every man
270The aptest way for safety and revenge.
Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed—
Never so few, and never yet more need. Exeunt

Page. He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water;
for the party that owed it, he might have moe diseases than
knew for.

Falstaff. Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me. The
this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent
that intends to laughter, more than I invent or is invented
me. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is
other men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that hath
285overwhelm'd all her litter but one. If the Prince put thee
my service for any other reason than to set me off, why then
have no judgment. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to
worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never mann'd
an agate till now; but I will inset you neither in gold nor
290silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your
master, for a jewel—the juvenal, the Prince your master,
chin is not yet fledge. I will sooner have a beard grow in
palm of my hand than he shall get one off his cheek; and yet
will not stick to say his face is a face-royal. God may
295when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet. He may keep it still
a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out of
and yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever since his
father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he's
out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dommelton
300the satin for my short cloak and my slops?

Page. He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance
Bardolph. He would not take his band and yours; he liked not
security.
320

Falstaff. Let him be damn'd, like the Glutton; pray God his
be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! A rascal-yea-forsooth
bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security! The
325whoreson smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and
bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is through
them in honest taking-up, then they must stand upon security.
had as lief they would put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to
it with security. I look'd 'a should have sent me two and
330yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me
Well, he may sleep in security; for he hath the horn of
abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it;
yet cannot he see, though he have his own lanthorn to light
Where's Bardolph?
335

Falstaff. What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not wars?
there not employment? Doth not the King lack subjects? Do not
rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side
370one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side,
it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to make it.

Falstaff. My good lord! God give your lordship good time of
am glad to see your lordship abroad. I heard say your
was sick; I hope your lordship goes abroad by advice. Your
395lordship, though not clean past your youth, hath yet some
of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I
humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverend care of your
health.

Falstaff. It hath it original from much grief, from study, and
perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of his
425in Galen; it is a kind of deafness.

Lord Chief Justice. I think you are fall'n into the disease, for you
hear not what I say to you.

Falstaff. Very well, my lord, very well. Rather an't please
430is the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking,
I am troubled withal.

Lord Chief Justice. To punish you by the heels would amend the
435of your ears; and I care not if I do become your physician.

Falstaff. I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient.
lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to me in
of poverty; but how I should be your patient to follow your
440prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or
indeed a scruple itself.

Lord Chief Justice. I sent for you, when there were matters against
445for your life, to come speak with me.

Falstaff. As I was then advis'd by my learned counsel in the
of this land-service, I did not come.

Falstaff. The young Prince hath misled me. I am the fellow with
great belly, and he my dog.

Lord Chief Justice. Well, I am loath to gall a new-heal'd wound.
day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your
465night's exploit on Gadshill. You may thank th' unquiet time
your quiet o'erposting that action.

Falstaff. Not so, my lord. Your ill angel is light; but hope
that looks upon me will take me without weighing. And yet in
respects, I grant, I cannot go—I cannot tell. Virtue is of
little regard in these costermongers' times that true valour
turn'd berod; pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick wit
490wasted in giving reckonings; all the other gifts appertinent
man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a
gooseberry. You that are old consider not the capacities of
that are young; you do measure the heat of our livers with
bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vaward of
495youth, must confess, are wags too.

Lord Chief Justice. Do you set down your name in the scroll of
505that are written down old with all the characters of age?
you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white
decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice
your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every
part about you blasted with antiquity? And will you yet call
510yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!

Falstaff. My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the
afternoon, with a white head and something a round belly. For
voice—I have lost it with hallooing and singing of anthems.
approve my youth further, I will not. The truth is, I am only
in judgment and understanding; and he that will caper with me
520a thousand marks, let him lend me the money, and have at him.
the box of the ear that the Prince gave you—he gave it like
rude prince, and you took it like a sensible lord. I have
him for it; and the young lion repents—marry, not in ashes
sackcloth, but in new silk and old sack.
525

Lord Chief Justice. Well, the King hath sever'd you. I hear you are
going with Lord John of Lancaster against the Archbishop and
Earl of Northumberland.
540

Falstaff. Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look
pray, all you that kiss my Lady Peace at home, that our
join not in a hot day; for, by the Lord, I take but two
out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily. If it
545hot day, and I brandish anything but a bottle, I would I
never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action can
out his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last
but it was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they
have a good thing, to make it too common. If ye will needs
550am an old man, you should give me rest. I would to God my
were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were better to
eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with
perpetual motion.

Lord Chief Justice. Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient
570bear crosses. Fare you well. Commend me to my cousin
Westmoreland.

Exeunt CHIEF JUSTICE and SERVANT

Falstaff. If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man can
575more separate age and covetousness than 'a can part young
and lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox pinches
other; and so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy!

Falstaff. I can get no remedy against this consumption of the
585purse; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the
is incurable. Go bear this letter to my Lord of Lancaster;
to the Prince; this to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to
Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry since I
perceiv'd the first white hair of my chin. About it; you know
590where to find me. [Exit PAGE] A pox of this gout! or, a
this pox! for the one or the other plays the rogue with my
toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars for my
and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good wit
make use of anything. I will turn diseases to commodity.
595

Archbishop Scroop. Thus have you heard our cause and known our means;
605And, my most noble friends, I pray you all
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes-
And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it?

Lord Mowbray. I well allow the occasion of our amis;
But gladly would be better satisfied
610How, in our means, we should advance ourselves
To look with forehead bold and big enough
Upon the power and puissance of the King.

Lord Hastings. Our present musters grow upon the file
To five and twenty thousand men of choice;
615And our supplies live largely in the hope
Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
With an incensed fire of injuries.

Lord Bardolph. Yea, marry, there's the point;
But if without him we be thought too feeble,
My judgment is we should not step too far
625Till we had his assistance by the hand;
For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this,
Conjecture, expectation, and surmise
Of aids incertain, should not be admitted.

Archbishop Scroop. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed
630It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

Lord Bardolph. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope,
Eating the air and promise of supply,
Flatt'ring himself in project of a power
Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;
635And so, with great imagination
Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,
And, winking, leapt into destruction.

Lord Hastings. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt
To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
640

Lord Bardolph. Yes, if this present quality of war-
Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot-
Lives so in hope, as in an early spring
We see th' appearing buds; which to prove fruit
Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair
645That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
And when we see the figure of the house,
Then we must rate the cost of the erection;
Which if we find outweighs ability,
650What do we then but draw anew the model
In fewer offices, or at least desist
To build at all? Much more, in this great work—
Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
And set another up—should we survey
655The plot of situation and the model,
Consent upon a sure foundation,
Question surveyors, know our own estate
How able such a work to undergo-
To weigh against his opposite; or else
660We fortify in paper and in figures,
Using the names of men instead of men;
Like one that draws the model of a house
Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,
Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost
665A naked subject to the weeping clouds
And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.

Lord Hastings. Grant that our hopes—yet likely of fair birth—
Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd
The utmost man of expectation,
670I think we are so a body strong enough,
Even as we are, to equal with the King.

Lord Hastings. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph;
For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
675Are in three heads: one power against the French,
And one against Glendower; perforce a third
Must take up us. So is the unfirm King
In three divided; and his coffers sound
With hollow poverty and emptiness.
680

Archbishop Scroop. That he should draw his several strengths together
And come against us in full puissance
Need not be dreaded.

Lord Hastings. If he should do so,
He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh
685Baying at his heels. Never fear that.

Lord Hastings. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth;
But who is substituted against the French
690I have no certain notice.

Archbishop Scroop. Let us on,
And publish the occasion of our arms.
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.
695An habitation giddy and unsure
Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
O thou fond many, with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
700And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him
That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.
So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
705And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?
They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die
Are now become enamour'd on his grave.
Thou that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,
710When through proud London he came sighing on
After th' admired heels of Bolingbroke,
Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again,
And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accurs'd!
Past and to come seems best; things present, worst.
715

Hostess Quickly. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabb'd me in mine
house, and that most beastly. In good faith, 'a cares not
mischief he does, if his weapon be out; he will foin like any
devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.

Hostess Quickly. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an
740infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him
Good Master Snare, let him not scape. 'A comes continuantly
Pie-corner—saving your manhoods—to buy a saddle; and he is
indited to dinner to the Lubber's Head in Lumbert Street, to
Master Smooth's the silkman. I pray you, since my exion is
745ent'red, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be
brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a
lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne;
have been fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, and fubb'd off, from
day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There
750honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass
a beast, to bear every knave's wrong.
[Enter SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, PAGE, and BARDOLPH]Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey-nose knave,
with him. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang and
755Master Snare; do me, do me, do me your offices.

Lord Chief Justice. How now, Sir John! what, are you brawling here?
Doth this become your place, your time, and business?
790You should have been well on your way to York.
Stand from him, fellow; wherefore hang'st thou upon him?

Hostess Quickly. O My most worshipful lord, an't please your Grace, I
poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.

Hostess Quickly. It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all—all
have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all
substance into that fat belly of his. But I will have some of
out again, or I will ride thee a nights like a mare.
800

Falstaff. I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have any
vantage of ground to get up.
805

Lord Chief Justice. How comes this, Sir John? Fie! What man of good
temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not
ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come
her own?

Hostess Quickly. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the
too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet,
my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire,
Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head for
815liking his father to singing-man of Windsor—thou didst swear
me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me
lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech,
butcher's wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly?
in to borrow a mess of vinegar, telling us she had a good
820prawns, whereby thou didst desire to eat some, whereby I told
thee they were ill for green wound? And didst thou not, when
was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity
such poor people, saying that ere long they should call me
And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch the thirty
825shillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath. Deny it, if thou
canst.

Falstaff. My lord, this is a poor mad soul, and she says up and
down the town that her eldest son is like you. She hath been
840good case, and, the truth is, poverty hath distracted her.
for these foolish officers, I beseech you I may have redress
against them.

Lord Chief Justice. Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with
manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a
confident brow, nor the throng of words that come with such
than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level
consideration. You have, as it appears to me, practis'd upon
850easy yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your
both in purse and in person.

Lord Chief Justice. Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her,
unpay the villainy you have done with her; the one you may do
with sterling money, and the other with current repentance.
860

Falstaff. My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply.
call honourable boldness impudent sauciness; if a man will
curtsy and say nothing, he is virtuous. No, my lord, my
duty rememb'red, I will not be your suitor. I say to you I do
865desire deliverance from these officers, being upon hasty
employment in the King's affairs.

Lord Chief Justice. You speak as having power to do wrong; but
th' effect of your reputation, and satisfy the poor woman.

Hostess Quickly. By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to
both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.

Falstaff. Glasses, glasses, is the only drinking; and for thy
885walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the
the German hunting, in water-work, is worth a thousand of
bed-hangers and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten
if thou canst. Come, and 'twere not for thy humours, there's
a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw the
890action. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me; dost
know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this.

Edward Poins. Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not
attach'd one of so high blood.

Henry V. Faith, it does me; though it discolours the complexion
my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it not show vilely in me
950desire small beer?

Edward Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to
remember so weak a composition.
955

Henry V. Belike then my appetite was not-princely got; for, by
troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer. But
indeed these humble considerations make me out of love with
greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name,
to know thy face to-morrow, or to take note how many pair of
960stockings thou hast—viz., these, and those that were thy
peach-colour'd ones—or to bear the inventory of thy shirts-
one for superfluity, and another for use! But that the
tennis-court-keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb
linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there; as thou
965not done a great while, because the rest of thy low countries
have made a shift to eat up thy holland. And God knows
those that bawl out of the ruins of thy linen shall inherit
kingdom; but the midwives say the children are not in the
whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are mightily
970strengthened.

Edward Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you
should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princes
do so, their fathers being so sick as yours at this time is?

Edward Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will
990tell.

Henry V. Marry, I tell thee it is not meet that I should be sad,
my father is sick; albeit I could tell to thee—as to one it
pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend—I could
sad and sad indeed too.
995

Henry V. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the devil's
as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let the
1000try the man. But I tell thee my heart bleeds inwardly that my
father is so sick; and keeping such vile company as thou art
in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.

Henry V. It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed
1010fellow to think as every man thinks. Never a man's thought in
world keeps the road-way better than thine. Every man would
me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful
thought to think so?

Edward Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd and so much engraffed
Falstaff.

Edward Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it with
own ears. The worst that they can say of me is that I am a
brother and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and those
things, I confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes
Bardolph.
1025

Enter BARDOLPH and PAGE

Henry V. And the boy that I gave Falstaff. 'A had him from me
1030Christian; and look if the fat villain have not transform'd
ape.

Edward Poins. Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you be
blushing? Wherefore blush you now? What a maidenly
are you become! Is't such a matter to get a pottle-pot's
maidenhead?

Page. 'A calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red lattice, and
could discern no part of his face from the window. At last I
spied his eyes; and methought he had made two holes in the
alewife's new petticoat, and so peep'd through.

Edward Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that
not him. Though that be sick, it dies not.

Henry V. I do allow this well to be as familiar with me as my
1070and he holds his place, for look you how he writes.

Edward Poins. [Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight'—Every man must know
as oft as he has occasion to name himself, even like those
are kin to the King; for they never prick their finger but
1075say 'There's some of the King's blood spilt.' 'How comes
says he that takes upon him not to conceive. The answer is as
ready as a borrower's cap: 'I am the King's poor cousin,

Henry V. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from
Japhet. But the letter: [Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight,
1085the son of the King nearest his father, Harry Prince of
greeting.'

Henry V. [Reads] 'I commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I
1095leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses
favours so much that he swears thou art to marry his sister
Repent at idle times as thou mayst, and so farewell.
Thine, by yea and no—which is as much as to say as
thou usest him—JACK FALSTAFF with my familiars,
1100 JOHN with my brothers and sisters, and SIR JOHN with
all Europe.'

Edward Poins. My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat
1105

Henry V. That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you
me thus, Ned? Must I marry your sister?

Edward Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said
1110

Henry V. Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the
of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is your master
London?

Henry V. Fare you well; go. Exeunt BARDOLPH and PAGE
This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.

Edward Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Albans
London.
1140

Henry V. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in
true colours, and not ourselves be seen?

Edward Poins. Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait upon
1145his table as drawers.

Henry V. From a god to a bull? A heavy descension! It was Jove's
case. From a prince to a prentice? A low transformation! That
shall be mine; for in everything the purpose must weigh with
1150folly. Follow me, Ned.

Lady Percy. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!
The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it than now;
1165When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.
1170For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!
For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
In the grey vault of heaven; and by his light
Did all the chivalry of England move
To do brave acts. He was indeed the glass
1175Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant;
For those who could speak low and tardily
1180Would turn their own perfection to abuse
To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,
In military rules, humours of blood,
He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
1185That fashion'd others. And him—O wondrous him!
O miracle of men!—him did you leave—
Second to none, unseconded by you—
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage, to abide a field
1190Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible. So you left him.
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others than with him! Let them alone.
1195The Marshal and the Archbishop are strong.
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

Earl of Northumberland. Beshrew your heart,
1200Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me
With new lamenting ancient oversights.
But I must go and meet with danger there,
Or it will seek me in another place,
And find me worse provided.
1205

Lady Northumberland. O, fly to Scotland
Till that the nobles and the armed commons
Have of their puissance made a little taste.

Lady Percy. If they get ground and vantage of the King,
Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
1210To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,
First let them try themselves. So did your son;
He was so suff'red; so came I a widow;
And never shall have length of life enough
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
1215That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
For recordation to my noble husband.

Earl of Northumberland. Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind
As with the tide swell'd up unto his height,
That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
1220Fain would I go to meet the Archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back.
I will resolve for Scotland. There am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company. Exeunt

Second Drawer. Mass, thou say'st true. The Prince once set a
of apple-johns before him, and told him there were five more
1230Johns; and, putting off his hat, said 'I will now take my
of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.' It ang'red
to the heart; but he hath forgot that.

Francis. Why, then, cover and set them down; and see if thou
find out Sneak's noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear
music.
1240

Enter third DRAWER

Third Drawer. Dispatch! The room where they supp'd is too hot;
they'll come in straight.
1245

Francis. Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master Poins anon;
they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John
not know of it. Bardolph hath brought word.

Third Drawer. By the mass, here will be old uds; it will be an
excellent stratagem.

Hostess Quickly. I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an
good temperality. Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as
would desire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as
rose, in good truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too
canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it
1260the blood ere one can say 'What's this?' How do you now?

Falstaff. 'Your brooches, pearls, and ouches.' For to serve
is to come halting off; you know, to come off the breach with
pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon
charg'd chambers bravely—

Hostess Quickly. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never
but you fall to some discord. You are both, i' good truth, as
1300rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with
confirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and that
you. You are the weaker vessel, as as they say, the emptier
vessel.

Doll Tearsheet. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogs-head?
There's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him;
have not seen a hulk better stuff'd in the hold. Come, I'll
1310friends with thee, Jack. Thou art going to the wars; and
I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.

Hostess Quickly. If he swagger, let him not come here. No, by my faith!
must live among my neighbours; I'll no swaggerers. I am in
name and fame with the very best. Shut the door. There comes
swaggerers here; I have not liv'd all this while to have
swaggering now. Shut the door, I pray you.
1325

Hostess Quickly. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me; and your ancient
swagg'rer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick,
debuty, t' other day; and, as he said to me—'twas no longer
1335than Wednesday last, i' good faith!—'Neighbour Quickly,'
he—Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then—'Neighbour
says he 'receive those that are civil, for' said he 'you are
an ill name.' Now 'a said so, I can tell whereupon. 'For'
'you are an honest woman and well thought on, therefore take
1340what guests you receive. Receive' says he 'no swaggering
companions.' There comes none here. You would bless you to
what he said. No, I'll no swagg'rers.

Falstaff. He's no swagg'rer, hostess; a tame cheater, i' faith;
may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound. He'll not
with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of
resistance. Call him up, drawer.
1355

Exit FRANCIS

Hostess Quickly. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my
nor no cheater; but I do not love swaggering, by my troth. I
1360the worse when one says 'swagger.' Feel, masters, how I
look you, I warrant you.

Doll Tearsheet. Captain! Thou abominable damn'd cheater, art thou not
to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would
truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you
1400have earn'd them. You a captain! you slave, for what? For
a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him,
rogue! He lives upon mouldy stew'd prunes and dried cakes. A
captain! God's light, these villains will make the word as
as the word 'occupy'; which was an excellent good word before
1405was ill sorted. Therefore captains had need look to't.

Pistol. These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses,
And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty mile a day,
Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,
1430And Troiant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?

Doll Tearsheet. I' faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thou
whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou
fighting a days and foining a nights, and begin to patch up
old body for heaven?
Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as drawers
1510

Falstaff. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's-head;
not bid me remember mine end.

Falstaff. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and 'a
quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks off
ends for flap-dragons, and rides the wild mare with the boys,
jumps upon join'd-stools, and swears with a good grace, and
1530his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the Leg, and
no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other
faculties 'a has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for
which the Prince admits him. For the Prince himself is such
another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between
1535avoirdupois.

Falstaff. No abuse, Ned, i' th' world; honest Ned, none. I
disprais'd him before the wicked—that the wicked might not
1615in love with thee; in which doing, I have done the part of a
careful friend and a true subject; and thy father is to give
thanks for it. No abuse, Hal; none, Ned, none; no, faith,
none.

Henry V. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth
make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us?
she of the wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or is
1625boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in
nose, of the wicked?

Falstaff. The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irrecoverable;
his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing
roast malt-worms. For the boy—there is a good angel about
1635but the devil outbids him too.

Falstaff. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for
Marry, there is another indictment upon thee for suffering
to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which
think thou wilt howl.
1650

Hostess Quickly. All vict'lers do so. What's a joint of mutton or two
whole Lent?
1655

Peto. The King your father is at Westminster;
1665And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
Come from the north; and as I came along
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.
1670

Henry V. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame
So idly to profane the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south,
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
1675Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.

Exeunt PRINCE, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH

Falstaff. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we
must hence, and leave it unpick'd. [Knocking within] More
knocking at the door!
1680[Re-enter BARDOLPH]How now! What's the matter?

Bardolph. You must away to court, sir, presently;
A dozen captains stay at door for you.

Falstaff. [To the PAGE]. Pay the musicians, sirrah.—Farewell,
1685hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men of
merit are sought after; the undeserver may sleep, when the
action is call'd on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent
away post, I will see you again ere I go.

Doll Tearsheet. I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to burst!
Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.

Henry IV. Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
1705But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters
And well consider of them. Make good speed. Exit page
How many thousands of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee,
1710That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
1715Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch
1720A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge,
And in the visitation of the winds,
1725Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deafing clamour in the slippery clouds,
That with the hurly death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
1730To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
1735

Henry IV. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom
How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.
1745

Earl of Warwick. It is but as a body yet distempered;
Which to his former strength may be restored
With good advice and little medicine.
My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.

Henry IV. O God! that one might read the book of fate,
1750And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level, and the continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
Into the sea; and other times to see
The beachy girdle of the ocean
1755Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,
And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
1760Would shut the book and sit him down and die.
'Tis not ten years gone
Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together, and in two years after
Were they at wars. It is but eight years since
1765This Percy was the man nearest my soul;
Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs
And laid his love and life under my foot;
Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by—
1770[To WARWICK] You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember—
When Richard, with his eye brim full of tears,
Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,
Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy?
'Northumberland, thou ladder by the which
1775My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne'—
Though then, God knows, I had no such intent
But that necessity so bow'd the state
That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss—
'The time shall come'—thus did he follow it—
1780'The time will come that foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption' so went on,
Foretelling this same time's condition
And the division of our amity.

Earl of Warwick. There is a history in all men's lives,
1785Figuring the natures of the times deceas'd;
The which observ'd, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, who in their seeds
And weak beginning lie intreasured.
1790Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And, by the necessary form of this,
King Richard might create a perfect guess
That great Northumberland, then false to him,
Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness;
1795Which should not find a ground to root upon
Unless on you.

Henry IV. Are these things then necessities?
Then let us meet them like necessities;
And that same word even now cries out on us.
1800They say the Bishop and Northumberland
Are fifty thousand strong.

Earl of Warwick. It cannot be, my lord.
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
The numbers of the feared. Please it your Grace
1805To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord,
The powers that you already have sent forth
Shall bring this prize in very easily.
To comfort you the more, I have receiv'd
A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
1810Your Majesty hath been this fortnight ill;
And these unseasoned hours perforce must ad
Unto your sickness.

Henry IV. I will take your counsel.
And, were these inward wars once out of hand,
1815We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. Exeunt

Robert Shallow. By the mass, I was call'd anything; and I would have
anything indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and little
John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and
Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cotsole man—you had not four
1840swinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again. And I may say
you we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the best of
all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John,
and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

Robert Shallow. The same Sir John, the very same. I see him break
Scoggin's head at the court gate, when 'a was a crack not
high; and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson
1855Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the
days that I have spent! and to see how many of my old
acquaintance are dead!

Robert Shallow. Jesu, Jesu, dead! drew a good bow; and dead! 'A shot a
fine shoot. John a Gaunt loved him well, and betted much
his head. Dead! 'A would have clapp'd i' th' clout at twelve
score, and carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and
and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to
1875How a score of ewes now?

Silence. Thereafter as they be—a score of good ewes may be
1880ten pounds.

Robert Shallow. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well said
too. 'Better accommodated!' It is good; yea, indeed, is it.
1905phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable.
'Accommodated!' It comes of accommodo. Very good; a good

Bardolph. Pardon, sir; I have heard the word. 'Phrase' call you
By this day, I know not the phrase; but I will maintain the
with my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word of
good command, by heaven. Accommodated: that is, when a man
they say, accommodated; or, when a man is being-whereby 'a
1915thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing.

Enter FALSTAFF

Robert Shallow. It is very just. Look, here comes good Sir John. Give
your good hand, give me your worship's good hand. By my
you like well and bear your years very well. Welcome, good
1925John.

Falstaff. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert
1930Master Surecard, as I think?

Robert Shallow. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.

Falstaff. Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be of
peace.
1935

Ralph Mouldy. I was prick'd well enough before, an you could have let
alone. My old dame will be undone now for one to do her
1960and her drudgery. You need not to have prick'd me; there are
other men fitter to go out than I.

Falstaff. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightst
him and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private
soldier, that is the leader of so many thousands. Let that
suffice, most forcible Feeble.

Robert Shallow. That we have, that we have, that we have; in faith,
John, we have. Our watchword was 'Hem, boys!' Come, let's to
2070dinner; come, let's to dinner. Jesus, the days that we have
Come, come.

Exeunt FALSTAFF and the JUSTICES

Peter Bullcalf. Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my friend; and
here's four Harry ten shillings in French crowns for you. In
truth, sir, I had as lief be hang'd, sir, as go. And yet, for
mine own part, sir, I do not care; but rather because I am
unwilling and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with
2080friends; else, sir, I did not care for mine own part so much.

Ralph Mouldy. And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my old dame's
2085stand my friend. She has nobody to do anything about her when
am gone; and she is old, and cannot help herself. You shall
forty, sir.

Francis Feeble. By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe
a death. I'll ne'er bear a base mind. An't be my destiny, so;
an't be not, so. No man's too good to serve 's Prince; and,
2095it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for
next.

Falstaff. Mouldy and Bullcalf: for you, Mouldy, stay at home
you are past service; and for your part, Bullcalf, grow you
unto it. I will none of you.
2115

Robert Shallow. Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong. They are
likeliest men, and I would have you serv'd with the best.

Falstaff. Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to choose a
Care I for the limb, the thews, the stature, bulk, and big
assemblance of a man! Give me the spirit, Master Shallow.
Wart; you see what a ragged appearance it is. 'A shall charge
and discharge you with the motion of a pewterer's hammer,
2125off and on swifter than he that gibbets on the brewer's
And this same half-fac'd fellow, Shadow—give me this man. He
presents no mark to the enemy; the foeman may with as great
level at the edge of a penknife. And, for a retreat—how
will this Feeble, the woman's tailor, run off! O, give me the
2130spare men, and spare me the great ones. Put me a caliver into
Wart's hand, Bardolph.

Robert Shallow. He is not his craft's master, he doth not do it right.
remember at Mile-end Green, when I lay at Clement's Inn—I
then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's show—there was a little quiver
fellow, and 'a would manage you his piece thus; and 'a would
2150about and about, and come you in and come you in. 'Rah, tah,
tah!' would 'a say; 'Bounce!' would 'a say; and away again
'a go, and again would 'a come. I shall ne'er see such a

Falstaff. These fellows will do well. Master Shallow, God keep
Master Silence, I will not use many words with you: Fare you
well! Gentlemen both, I thank you. I must a dozen mile
2160Bardolph, give the soldiers coats.

Falstaff. Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. [Exeunt JUSTICES] On,
Bardolph; lead the men away. [Exeunt all but FALSTAFF] As I
return, I will fetch off these justices. I do see the bottom of
justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this
2175vice of lying! This same starv'd justice hath done nothing but
prate to me of the wildness of his youth and the feats he hath
done about Turnbull Street; and every third word a lie, duer paid
to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember him at
Clement's Inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring.
2180When 'a was naked, he was for all the world like a fork'd radish,
with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife. 'A was so
forlorn that his dimensions to any thick sight were invisible. 'A
was the very genius of famine; yet lecherous as a monkey, and the
whores call'd him mandrake. 'A came ever in the rearward of the
2185fashion, and sung those tunes to the overscutch'd huswifes that
he heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his fancies or
his good-nights. And now is this Vice's dagger become a squire,
and talks as familiarly of John a Gaunt as if he had been sworn
brother to him; and I'll be sworn 'a ne'er saw him but once in
2190the Tiltyard; and then he burst his head for crowding among the
marshal's men. I saw it, and told John a Gaunt he beat his own
name; for you might have thrust him and all his apparel into an
eel-skin; the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for him, a
court—and now has he land and beeves. Well, I'll be acquainted
2195with him if I return; and 't shall go hard but I'll make him a
philosopher's two stones to me. If the young dace be a bait for
the old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I may snap
at him. Let time shape, and there an end. Exit

Archbishop Scroop. 'Tis well done.
My friends and brethren in these great affairs,
I must acquaint you that I have receiv'd
New-dated letters from Northumberland;
Their cold intent, tenour, and substance, thus:
2210Here doth he wish his person, with such powers
As might hold sortance with his quality,
The which he could not levy; whereupon
He is retir'd, to ripe his growing fortunes,
To Scotland; and concludes in hearty prayers
2215That your attempts may overlive the hazard
And fearful meeting of their opposite.

Lord Mowbray. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground
And dash themselves to pieces.

Earl of Westmoreland. Then, my lord,
2235Unto your Grace do I in chief address
The substance of my speech. If that rebellion
Came like itself, in base and abject routs,
Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags,
And countenanc'd by boys and beggary-
2240I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd
In his true, native, and most proper shape,
You, reverend father, and these noble lords,
Had not been here to dress the ugly form
Of base and bloody insurrection
2245With your fair honours. You, Lord Archbishop,
Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd,
Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd,
Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd,
Whose white investments figure innocence,
2250The dove, and very blessed spirit of peace-
Wherefore you do so ill translate yourself
Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace,
Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war;
Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,
2255Your pens to lances, and your tongue divine
To a loud trumpet and a point of war?

Archbishop Scroop. Wherefore do I this? So the question stands.
Briefly to this end: we are all diseas'd
And with our surfeiting and wanton hours
2260Have brought ourselves into a burning fever,
And we must bleed for it; of which disease
Our late King, Richard, being infected, died.
But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland,
I take not on me here as a physician;
2265Nor do I as an enemy to peace
Troop in the throngs of military men;
But rather show awhile like fearful war
To diet rank minds sick of happiness,
And purge th' obstructions which begin to stop
2270Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.
I have in equal balance justly weigh'd
What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,
And find our griefs heavier than our offences.
We see which way the stream of time doth run
2275And are enforc'd from our most quiet there
By the rough torrent of occasion;
And have the summary of all our griefs,
When time shall serve, to show in articles;
Which long ere this we offer'd to the King,
2280And might by no suit gain our audience:
When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs,
We are denied access unto his person,
Even by those men that most have done us wrong.
The dangers of the days but newly gone,
2285Whose memory is written on the earth
With yet appearing blood, and the examples
Of every minute's instance, present now,
Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms;
Not to break peace, or any branch of it,
2290But to establish here a peace indeed,
Concurring both in name and quality.

Earl of Westmoreland. When ever yet was your appeal denied;
Wherein have you been galled by the King;
What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you
2295That you should seal this lawless bloody book
Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine,
And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?

Earl of Westmoreland. There is no need of any such redress;
Or if there were, it not belongs to you.

Lord Mowbray. Why not to him in part, and to us all
That feel the bruises of the days before,
2305And suffer the condition of these times
To lay a heavy and unequal hand
Upon our honours?

Earl of Westmoreland. O my good Lord Mowbray,
Construe the times to their necessities,
2310And you shall say, indeed, it is the time,
And not the King, that doth you injuries.
Yet, for your part, it not appears to me,
Either from the King or in the present time,
That you should have an inch of any ground
2315To build a grief on. Were you not restor'd
To all the Duke of Norfolk's signiories,
Your noble and right well-rememb'red father's?

Lord Mowbray. What thing, in honour, had my father lost
That need to be reviv'd and breath'd in me?
2320The King that lov'd him, as the state stood then,
Was force perforce compell'd to banish him,
And then that Henry Bolingbroke and he,
Being mounted and both roused in their seats,
Their neighing coursers daring of the spur,
2325Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,
Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel,
And the loud trumpet blowing them together—
Then, then, when there was nothing could have stay'd
My father from the breast of Bolingbroke,
2330O, when the King did throw his warder down—
His own life hung upon the staff he threw—
Then threw he down himself, and all their lives
That by indictment and by dint of sword
Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke.
2335

Earl of Westmoreland. You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what.
The Earl of Hereford was reputed then
In England the most valiant gentleman.
Who knows on whom fortune would then have smil'd?
But if your father had been victor there,
2340He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry;
For all the country, in a general voice,
Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and love
Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on,
And bless'd and grac'd indeed more than the King.
2345But this is mere digression from my purpose.
Here come I from our princely general
To know your griefs; to tell you from his Grace
That he will give you audience; and wherein
It shall appear that your demands are just,
2350You shall enjoy them, everything set off
That might so much as think you enemies.

Lord Mowbray. But he hath forc'd us to compel this offer;
And it proceeds from policy, not love.

Earl of Westmoreland. Mowbray. you overween to take it so.
2355This offer comes from mercy, not from fear;
For, lo! within a ken our army lies-
Upon mine honour, all too confident
To give admittance to a thought of fear.
Our battle is more full of names than yours,
2360Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;
Then reason will our hearts should be as good.
Say you not, then, our offer is compell'd.

Archbishop Scroop. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule,
For this contains our general grievances.
2375Each several article herein redress'd,
All members of our cause, both here and hence,
That are insinewed to this action,
Acquitted by a true substantial form,
And present execution of our wills
2380To us and to our purposes confin'd-
We come within our awful banks again,
And knit our powers to the arm of peace.

Earl of Westmoreland. This will I show the general. Please you, lords,
In sight of both our battles we may meet;
2385And either end in peace—which God so frame!-
Or to the place of diff'rence call the swords
Which must decide it.

Lord Mowbray. There is a thing within my bosom tells me
2390That no conditions of our peace can stand.

Lord Hastings. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace
Upon such large terms and so absolute
As our conditions shall consist upon,
Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
2395

Lord Mowbray. Yea, but our valuation shall be such
That every slight and false-derived cause,
Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason,
Shall to the King taste of this action;
That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,
2400We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff,
And good from bad find no partition.

Archbishop Scroop. No, no, my lord. Note this: the King is weary
Of dainty and such picking grievances;
2405For he hath found to end one doubt by death
Revives two greater in the heirs of life;
And therefore will he wipe his tables clean,
And keep no tell-tale to his memory
That may repeat and history his los
2410To new remembrance. For full well he knows
He cannot so precisely weed this land
As his misdoubts present occasion:
His foes are so enrooted with his friends
That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
2415He doth unfasten so and shake a friend.
So that this land, like an offensive wife
That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes,
As he is striking, holds his infant up,
And hangs resolv'd correction in the arm
2420That was uprear'd to execution.

Lord Hastings. Besides, the King hath wasted all his rods
On late offenders, that he now doth lack
The very instruments of chastisement;
So that his power, like to a fangless lion,
2425May offer, but not hold.

Archbishop Scroop. 'Tis very true;
And therefore be assur'd, my good Lord Marshal,
If we do now make our atonement well,
Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
2430Grow stronger for the breaking.

Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, attended; afterwards, the ARCHBISHOP, HASTINGS, and others; from the other side, PRINCE JOHN of LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, OFFICERS, and others

Prince John. You are well encount'red here, my cousin Mowbray.
Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop;
And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.
My Lord of York, it better show'd with you
2445When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
Encircled you to hear with reverence
Your exposition on the holy text
Than now to see you here an iron man,
Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
2450Turning the word to sword, and life to death.
That man that sits within a monarch's heart
And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,
Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach
2455In shadow of such greatness! With you, Lord Bishop,
It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken
How deep you were within the books of God?
To us the speaker in His parliament,
To us th' imagin'd voice of God himself,
2460The very opener and intelligencer
Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven,
And our dull workings. O, who shall believe
But you misuse the reverence of your place,
Employ the countenance and grace of heav'n
2465As a false favourite doth his prince's name,
In deeds dishonourable? You have ta'en up,
Under the counterfeited zeal of God,
The subjects of His substitute, my father,
And both against the peace of heaven and him
2470Have here up-swarm'd them.

Archbishop Scroop. Good my Lord of Lancaster,
I am not here against your father's peace;
But, as I told my Lord of Westmoreland,
The time misord'red doth, in common sense,
2475Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form
To hold our safety up. I sent your Grace
The parcels and particulars of our grief,
The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the court,
Whereon this hydra son of war is born;
2480Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep
With grant of our most just and right desires;
And true obedience, of this madness cur'd,
Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.

Lord Mowbray. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
2485To the last man.

Lord Hastings. And though we here fall down,
We have supplies to second our attempt.
If they miscarry, theirs shall second them;
And so success of mischief shall be born,
2490And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up
Whiles England shall have generation.

Prince John. YOU are too shallow, Hastings, much to shallow,
To sound the bottom of the after-times.

Earl of Westmoreland. Pleaseth your Grace to answer them directly
2495How far forth you do like their articles.

Prince John. I like them all and do allow them well;
And swear here, by the honour of my blood,
My father's purposes have been mistook;
And some about him have too lavishly
2500Wrested his meaning and authority.
My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd;
Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,
Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
As we will ours; and here, between the armies,
2505Let's drink together friendly and embrace,
That all their eyes may bear those tokens home
Of our restored love and amity.

Earl of Westmoreland. I pledge your Grace; and if you knew what pains
I have bestow'd to breed this present peace,
You would drink freely; but my love to ye
Shall show itself more openly hereafter.
2520

Archbishop Scroop. A peace is of the nature of a conquest;
For then both parties nobly are subdu'd,
And neither party loser.

Prince John. Go, my lord,
And let our army be discharged too.
2540[Exit WESTMORELAND]And, good my lord, so please you let our trains
March by us, that we may peruse the men
We should have cop'd withal.

Archbishop Scroop. Go, good Lord Hastings,
2545And, ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by.

Lord Hastings. My lord, our army is dispers'd already.
2555Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their courses
East, west, north, south; or like a school broke up,
Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.

Earl of Westmoreland. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which
I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason;
2560And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,
Of capital treason I attach you both.

Prince John. I pawn'd thee none:
I promis'd you redress of these same grievances
Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,
I will perform with a most Christian care.
But for you, rebels—look to taste the due
2570Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.
Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.
Strike up our drums, pursue the scatt'red stray.
God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day.
2575Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
Treason's true bed and yielder-up of breath. Exeunt

Falstaff. Well then, Colville is your name, a knight is your
degree, and your place the Dale. Colville shall still be your
2585name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place—a
deep enough; so shall you be still Colville of the Dale.

Falstaff. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do you yield,
2590sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are the
of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore rouse
fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

Falstaff. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of
and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my
2600An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the
active fellow in Europe. My womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.
Here comes our general.

Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND, BLUNT, and others

Prince John. The heat is past; follow no further now.
Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
[Exit WESTMORELAND]2610Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
When everything is ended, then you come.
These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
One time or other break some gallows' back.

Falstaff. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: I
2615knew yet but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Do
think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? Have I, in my poor
old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither
the very extremest inch of possibility; I have found'red nine
score and odd posts; and here, travel tainted as I am, have,
2620my pure and immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colville of the
Dale,a most furious knight and valorous enemy. But what of
He saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say with the
fellow of Rome-I came, saw, and overcame.

Falstaff. I know not. Here he is, and here I yield him; and I
beseech your Grace, let it be book'd with the rest of this
deeds; or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad
2635else, with mine own picture on the top on't, Colville kissing
foot; to the which course if I be enforc'd, if you do not all
show like gilt twopences to me, and I, in the clear sky of
o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of
element, which show like pins' heads to her, believe not the
2640of the noble. Therefore let me have right, and let desert

Prince John. Send Colville, with his confederates,
To York, to present execution.
Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure.
[Exeunt BLUNT and others]2670And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords.
I hear the King my father is sore sick.
Our news shall go before us to his Majesty,
Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him
And we with sober speed will follow you.
2675

Falstaff. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go through
Gloucestershire; and, when you come to court, stand my good
pray, in your good report.

Prince John. Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition,
2680Shall better speak of you than you deserve.

Exeunt all but FALSTAFF

Falstaff. I would you had but the wit; 'twere better than your
dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth
love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh—but that's no
2685he drinks no wine. There's never none of these demure boys
to any proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood,
making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male
green-sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches.
are generally fools and cowards-which some of us should be
2690but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold
operation in it. It ascends me into the brain; dries me there
the foolish and dull and crudy vapours which environ it;
apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and
delectable shapes; which delivered o'er to the voice, the
2695which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second
your excellent sherris is the warming of the blood; which
cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the
badge of pusillanimity and cowardice; but the sherris warms
and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extremes.
2700illumineth the face, which, as a beacon, gives warning to all
rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and then the vital
commoners and inland petty spirits muster me all to their
captain, the heart, who, great and puff'd up with this
doth any deed of courage—and this valour comes of sherris.
2705that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, for that
it a-work; and learning, a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil
till sack commences it and sets it in act and use. Hereof
it that Prince Harry is valiant; for the cold blood he did
naturally inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, sterile,
2710bare land, manured, husbanded, and till'd, with excellent
endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile sherris,
that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousand
the first humane principle I would teach them should be to
forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
2715[Enter BARDOLPH]How now, Bardolph!

Falstaff. Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire, and there
I visit Master Robert Shallow, Esquire. I have him already
2740temp'ring between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I
with him. Come away. Exeunt

Henry IV. Now, lords, if God doth give successful end
To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,
We will our youth lead on to higher fields,
And draw no swords but what are sanctified.
Our navy is address'd, our power connected,
2750Our substitutes in absence well invested,
And everything lies level to our wish.
Only we want a little personal strength;
And pause us till these rebels, now afoot,
Come underneath the yoke of government.
2755

Earl of Warwick. Both which we doubt not but your Majesty
Shall soon enjoy.

Henry IV. Humphrey, my son of Gloucester,
Where is the Prince your brother?

Henry IV. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.
How chance thou art not with the Prince thy brother?
He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas.
Thou hast a better place in his affection
2770Than all thy brothers; cherish it, my boy,
And noble offices thou mayst effect
Of mediation, after I am dead,
Between his greatness and thy other brethren.
Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love,
2775Nor lose the good advantage of his grace
By seeming cold or careless of his will;
For he is gracious if he be observ'd.
He hath a tear for pity and a hand
Open as day for melting charity;
2780Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he is flint;
As humorous as winter, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd.
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
2785When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth;
But, being moody, give him line and scope
Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
Confound themselves with working. Learn this, Thomas,
And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends,
2790A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in,
That the united vessel of their blood,
Mingled with venom of suggestion—
As, force perforce, the age will pour it in—
Shall never leak, though it do work as strong
2795As aconitum or rash gunpowder.

Henry IV. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;
And he, the noble image of my youth,
Is overspread with them; therefore my grief
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death.
2805The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape,
In forms imaginary, th'unguided days
And rotten times that you shall look upon
When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
2810When rage and hot blood are his counsellors
When means and lavish manners meet together,
O, with what wings shall his affections fly
Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay!

Earl of Warwick. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite.
2815The Prince but studies his companions
Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language,
'Tis needful that the most immodest word
Be look'd upon and learnt; which once attain'd,
Your Highness knows, comes to no further use
2820But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms,
The Prince will, in the perfectness of time,
Cast off his followers; and their memory
Shall as a pattern or a measure live
By which his Grace must mete the lives of other,
2825Turning past evils to advantages.

Earl of Westmoreland. Health to my sovereign, and new happiness
Added to that that am to deliver!
Prince John, your son, doth kiss your Grace's hand.
Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law.
2835There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd,
But Peace puts forth her olive everywhere.
The manner how this action hath been borne
Here at more leisure may your Highness read,
With every course in his particular.
2840

Henry IV. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird,
Which ever in the haunch of winter sings
The lifting up of day.
[Enter HARCOURT]Look here's more news.
2845

Harcourt. From enemies heaven keep your Majesty;
And, when they stand against you, may they fall
As those that I am come to tell you of!
The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph,
With a great power of English and of Scots,
2850Are by the shrieve of Yorkshire overthrown.
The manner and true order of the fight
This packet, please it you, contains at large.

Henry IV. And wherefore should these good news make me sick?
Will Fortune never come with both hands full,
2855But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
She either gives a stomach and no food-
Such are the poor, in health—or else a feast,
And takes away the stomach—such are the rich
That have abundance and enjoy it not.
2860I should rejoice now at this happy news;
And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy.
O me! come near me now I am much ill.

Earl of Warwick. Be patient, Princes; you do know these fits
Are with his Highness very ordinary.
Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be well.

Prince Thomas. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs.
2870Th' incessant care and labour of his mind
Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in
So thin that life looks through, and will break out.

Prince Humphrey. The people fear me; for they do observe
Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature.
2875The seasons change their manners, as the year
Had found some months asleep, and leapt them over.

Prince Thomas. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between;
And the old folk, Time's doting chronicles,
Say it did so a little time before
2880That our great grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died.

Henry V. No; I will sit and watch here by the King.
[Exeunt all but the PRINCE]Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
2910O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now!
Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet
As he whose brow with homely biggen bound
2915Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armour worn in heat of day
That scald'st with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather which stirs not.
2920Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!
This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep
That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd
So many English kings. Thy due from me
2925Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.
My due from thee is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
2930Derives itself to me. [Putting on the crown] Lo where it
Which God shall guard; and put the world's whole strength
Into one giant arm, it shall not force
This lineal honour from me. This from thee
Will I to mine leave as 'tis left to me. Exit
2935

Henry IV. The Prince hath ta'en it hence. Go, seek him out.
Is he so hasty that he doth suppose
My sleep my death?
Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hither.
[Exit WARWICK]2955This part of his conjoins with my disease
And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you are!
How quickly nature falls into revolt
When gold becomes her object!
For this the foolish over-careful fathers
2960Have broke their sleep with thoughts,
Their brains with care, their bones with industry;
For this they have engrossed and pil'd up
The cank'red heaps of strange-achieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
2965Their sons with arts and martial exercises;
When, like the bee, tolling from every flower
The virtuous sweets,
Our thighs with wax, our mouths with honey pack'd,
We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees,
2970Are murd'red for our pains. This bitter taste
Yields his engrossments to the ending father.
[Re-enter WARWICK]Now where is he that will not stay so long
Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me?
2975

Earl of Warwick. My lord, I found the Prince in the next room,
Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks,
With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow,
That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood,
Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
2980With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.

Henry IV. But wherefore did he take away the crown?
[Re-enter PRINCE HENRY]Lo where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry.
Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.
2985

Henry IV. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.
Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair
2990That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours
Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee.
Stay but a little, for my cloud of dignity
Is held from falling with so weak a wind
2995That it will quickly drop; my day is dim.
Thou hast stol'n that which, after some few hours,
Were thine without offense; and at my death
Thou hast seal'd up my expectation.
Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not,
3000And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it.
Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,
To stab at half an hour of my life.
What, canst thou not forbear me half an hour?
3005Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself;
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead.
Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse
Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head;
3010Only compound me with forgotten dust;
Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.
Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;
For now a time is come to mock at form-
Harry the Fifth is crown'd. Up, vanity:
3015Down, royal state. All you sage counsellors, hence.
And to the English court assemble now,
From every region, apes of idleness.
Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum.
Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,
3020Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more.
England shall double gild his treble guilt;
England shall give him office, honour, might;
3025For the fifth Harry from curb'd license plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.
O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
3030What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
O, thou wilt be a wilderness again.
Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!

Henry V. O, pardon me, my liege! But for my tears,
The moist impediments unto my speech,
3035I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke
Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard
The course of it so far. There is your crown,
And he that wears the crown immortally
Long guard it yours! [Kneeling] If I affect it more
3040Than as your honour and as your renown,
Let me no more from this obedience rise,
Which my most inward true and duteous spirit
Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending!
God witness with me, when I here came in
3045And found no course of breath within your Majesty,
How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,
O, let me in my present wildness die,
And never live to show th' incredulous world
The noble change that I have purposed!
3050Coming to look on you, thinking you dead-
And dead almost, my liege, to think you were-
I spake unto this crown as having sense,
And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee depending
Hath fed upon the body of my father;
3055Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold.
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Preserving life in med'cine potable;
But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,
Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege,
3060Accusing it, I put it on my head,
To try with it—as with an enemy
That had before my face murd'red my father—
The quarrel of a true inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with joy,
3065Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;
If any rebel or vain spirit of mine
Did with the least affection of a welcome
Give entertainment to the might of it,
Let God for ever keep it from my head,
3070And make me as the poorest vassal is,
That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!

Henry IV. O my son,
God put it in thy mind to take it hence,
That thou mightst win the more thy father's love,
3075Pleading so wisely in excuse of it!
Come hither, Harry; sit thou by my bed,
And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son,
By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways
3080I met this crown; and I myself know well
How troublesome it sat upon my head:
To thee it shall descend with better quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation;
For all the soil of the achievement goes
3085With me into the earth. It seem'd in me
But as an honour snatch'd with boist'rous hand;
And I had many living to upbraid
My gain of it by their assistances;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
3090Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fears
Thou seest with peril I have answered;
For all my reign hath been but as a scene
Acting that argument. And now my death
Changes the mood; for what in me was purchas'd
3095Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;
So thou the garland wear'st successively.
Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do,
Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green;
And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends,
3100Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out;
By whose fell working I was first advanc'd,
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
To be again displac'd; which to avoid,
I cut them off; and had a purpose now
3105To lead out many to the Holy Land,
Lest rest and lying still might make them look
Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,
Be it thy course to busy giddy minds
With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne out,
3110May waste the memory of the former days.
More would I, but my lungs are wasted so
That strength of speech is utterly denied me.
How I came by the crown, O God, forgive;
And grant it may with thee in true peace live!
3115

Henry V. My gracious liege,
You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;
Then plain and right must my possession be;
Which I with more than with a common pain
'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.
3120 Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WARWICK, LORDS, and others

Henry IV. Laud be to God! Even there my life must end.
It hath been prophesied to me many years,
I should not die but in Jerusalem;
3135Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land.
But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie;
In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. Exeunt

Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of
against Clement Perkes o' th' hill.

Robert Shallow. There, is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor.
Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.
3185

Davy. I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet God
forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his
friend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for
himself, when a knave is not. I have serv'd your worship
3190sir, this eight years; an I cannot once or twice in a quarter
bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very
credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend,
therefore, I beseech you, let him be countenanc'd.

Falstaff. I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
3205[Exit SHALLOW] Bardolph, look to our horses. [Exeunt
and PAGE] If I were sawed into quantities, I should make
dozen of such bearded hermits' staves as Master Shallow. It
wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men's
spirits and his. They, by observing of him, do bear
3210like foolish justices: he, by conversing with them, is turned
into a justice-like serving-man. Their spirits are so married
conjunction with the participation of society that they flock
together in consent, like so many wild geese. If I had a suit
Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation of
3215being near their master; if to his men, I would curry with
Shallow that no man could better command his servants. It is
certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is
as men take diseases, one of another; therefore let men take
of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this
3220to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of
fashions, which is four terms, or two actions; and 'a shall
without intervallums. O, it is much that a lie with a slight
oath, and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that
had the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him laugh
3225his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!

Lord Chief Justice. I know he doth not, and do arm myself
3255To welcome the condition of the time,
Which cannot look more hideously upon me
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.

Enter LANCASTER, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, WESTMORELAND, and others

Earl of Warwick. Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry.
3260O that the living Harry had the temper
Of he, the worst of these three gentlemen!
How many nobles then should hold their places
That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!

Prince Humphrey. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend
And I dare swear you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow—it is sure your own.
3275

Prince John. Though no man be assur'd what grace to find,
You stand in coldest expectation.
I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.

Prince Thomas. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;
3280Which swims against your stream of quality.

Lord Chief Justice. Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour,
Led by th' impartial conduct of my soul;
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall'd remission.
3285If truth and upright innocency fail me,
I'll to the King my master that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.

Henry IV. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
Sits not so easy on me as you think.
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear.
This is the English, not the Turkish court;
3295Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.
Sorrow so royally in you appears
That I will deeply put the fashion on,
3300And wear it in my heart. Why, then, be sad;
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd,
I'll be your father and your brother too;
3305Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares.
Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I;
But Harry lives that shall convert those tears
By number into hours of happiness.

Henry V. You all look strangely on me; and you most.
You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.

Lord Chief Justice. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

Henry V. No?
3315How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?
What, rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison,
Th' immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
May this be wash'd in Lethe and forgotten?
3320

Lord Chief Justice. I then did use the person of your father;
The image of his power lay then in me;
And in th' administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your Highness pleased to forget my place,
3325The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the King whom I presented,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority
3330And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought,
To pluck down justice from your awful bench,
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
3335That guards the peace and safety of your person;
Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image,
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
Be now the father, and propose a son;
3340Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;
And then imagine me taking your part
And, in your power, soft silencing your son.
3345After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state
What I have done that misbecame my place,
My person, or my liege's sovereignty.

Henry V. You are right, Justice, and you weigh this well;
3350Therefore still bear the balance and the sword;
And I do wish your honours may increase
Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did.
So shall I live to speak my father's words:
3355'Happy am I that have a man so bold
That dares do justice on my proper son;
And not less happy, having such a son
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me;
3360For which I do commit into your hand
Th' unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;
With this remembrance—that you use the same
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit
As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand.
3365You shall be as a father to my youth;
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will stoop and humble my intents
To your well-practis'd wise directions.
And, Princes all, believe me, I beseech you,
3370My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections;
And with his spirits sadly I survive,
To mock the expectation of the world,
To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
3375Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now.
Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea,
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
3380And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Now call we our high court of parliament;
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best govern'd nation;
3385That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us;
In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
Our coronation done, we will accite,
As I before rememb'red, all our state;
3390And—God consigning to my good intents-
No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say,
God shorten Harry's happy life one day. Exeunt

Falstaff. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your
3405serving-man and your husband.

Robert Shallow. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir
John. By the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper. A
varlet. Now sit down, now sit down; come, cousin.

Silence. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a—we shall [Singing] Do nothing but eat and make good cheer,
And praise God for the merry year;
When flesh is cheap and females dear,
And lusty lads roam here and there,
3415 So merrily,
And ever among so merrily.

Falstaff. There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll give
a health for that anon.

Pistol. Puff!
3500Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!
Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
And helter-skelter have I rode to thee;
And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
And golden times, and happy news of price.
3505

Falstaff. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my Lord
Shallow, be what thou wilt—I am Fortune's steward. Get on
boots; we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph!
[Exit BARDOLPH] Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal
3545devise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master
I know the young King is sick for me. Let us take any man's
horses: the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed
they that have been my friends; and woe to my Lord Chief

Pistol. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
'Where is the life that late I led?' say they.
3555Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days! Exeunt

Hostess Quickly. O the Lord, that Sir John were come! He would make this a
bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb
miscarry!
3570

First Beadle. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again;
you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; for
the man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you.

Doll Tearsheet. I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you
as soundly swing'd for this—you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy
3575famish'd correctioner, if you be not swing'd, I'll forswear
half-kirtles.

Falstaff. Come here, Pistol; stand behind me. [To SHALLOW] O, if
I had had to have made new liveries, I would have bestowed the
thousand pound I borrowed of you. But 'tis no matter; this poor
show doth better; this doth infer the zeal I had to see him.
3600

Henry V. I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers.
3640How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
I have long dreamt of such a kind of man,
So surfeit-swell'd, so old, and so profane;
But being awak'd, I do despise my dream.
Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace;
3645Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape
For thee thrice wider than for other men—
Reply not to me with a fool-born jest;
Presume not that I am the thing I was,
For God doth know, so shall the world perceive,
3650That I have turn'd away my former self;
So will I those that kept me company.
When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,
The tutor and the feeder of my riots.
3655Till then I banish thee, on pain of death,
As I have done the rest of my misleaders,
Not to come near our person by ten mile.
For competence of life I will allow you,
That lack of means enforce you not to evils;
3660And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,
We will, according to your strengths and qualities,
Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my lord,
To see perform'd the tenour of our word.
Set on. Exeunt the KING and his train
3665

Robert Shallow. Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me
home with me.

Falstaff. That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not you grieve
3670this; I shall be sent for in private to him. Look you, he
seem thus to the world. Fear not your advancements; I will be
man yet that shall make you great.

Robert Shallow. I cannot perceive how, unless you give me your
and stuff me out with straw. I beseech you, good Sir John,
have five hundred of my thousand.

Falstaff. Sir, I will be as good as my word. This that you
was but a colour.

Prince John. I like this fair proceeding of the King's.
He hath intent his wonted followers
Shall all be very well provided for;
But all are banish'd till their conversations
3700Appear more wise and modest to the world.

Prince John. I will lay odds that, ere this year expire,
3705We bear our civil swords and native fire
As far as France. I heard a bird so sing,
Whose music, to my thinking, pleas'd the King.
Come, will you hence? Exeunt

EPILOGUE.

Dancer. First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech. My fear, is your
displeasure; my curtsy, my duty; and my speech, to beg your pardons.
If you look for a good speech now, you undo me; for what I have
to say is of mine own making; and what, indeed, I should say will, I doubt,
prove mine own marring. But to the purpose, and so to the
3715venture.

Be it known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here in the
end of a displeasing play, to pray your patience for it and to
promise you a better. I meant, indeed, to pay you with this; which if like an
3720ill venture it come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle
creditors, lose. Here I promis'd you I would be, and here I
commit my body to your mercies. Bate me some, and I will pay you some,
and, as most debtors do, promise you infinitely; and so I kneel down
before you—but, indeed, to pray for the Queen.
3725

If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will you command
me to use my legs? And yet that were but light payment—to dance out of
your debt. But a good conscience will make any possible
satisfaction, and so would I. All the gentlewomen here have
3730forgiven me. If the gentlemen will not, then the gentlemen do not agree
with the gentlewomen, which was never seen before in such an assembly.

One word more, I beseech you. If you be not too much cloy'd
with fat meat, our humble author will continue the story, with Sir John in
3735it, and make you merry with fair Katherine of France; where, for
anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless already 'a
be killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr and
this is not the man. My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will
bid you good night.
3740